


Slightly dead inside

by Readerstories



Series: Gotham x reader [2]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2020-12-24 02:17:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21091748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Readerstories/pseuds/Readerstories
Summary: You come home after a night shift at the bar you work at and find someone in your apartment.Set at no particular point in time, space, or AU, except from that Jerome's face is sewn back on properly, he's alive, out of Arkham, and Gordon is captain of the GCPD.





	1. Well, hello

**Author's Note:**

> Reader's sense of right and wrong is grey at best tbh.

Trudging up the stairs of your apartment building, you try to ignore the various sounds you hear through the doors you pass. There's yelling, screaming, tv's turned all the way up, the dull sound of rain outside, just another night in Gotham.

Nessie, your black pitbull, takes the steps with ease, slightly in front of you the whole time, luring you forward so she can get her dinner. Or nighttime snack more like, it's four am after all.

Unlocking the door, you slip into the narrow hallway of your apartment, closing the door behind you with a tired sigh. Nessie is standing in the doorway to the living room and kitchen, growling, which is unlike her. You throw your wet coat into your tiny bathroom, better if it dries on tiles instead of the wooden floor of the hallway. 

When you get to the living room, you see a man staring at Nessie, scowling. Well, you think he is, it's hard to tell whit his mouth twisted like that. When you enter, the man shifts his eyes from Nessie to you, his scowl turning into a smile. Jerome Valeska, you think his name is if you don't remember it completely wrong.

"Well hello there." You wave at him, bending down slightly to pat Nessie's head, willing her to calm down. Straightening up, you eye the man.

"Hello." Jerome scowls again, not the reaction he had expected from someone who had found a strange man in their apartment, especially since it was him.

"Hm, not the welcome I was expecting." You shrug, going over to the kitchen to get out the dog food for Nessie, she trots behind you, hunger coming into focus instead of Jerome. You pour her some, setting the bowl down so she can dig in. She does so with fervor, you watch her for a bit before turning your attention back to Jerome.

"I don't care why you are here, just don't get any blood on my carpet and we're good." Your eyes is weirdly empty of any emotion Jerome notes.

"Could always get yours on the carpet and then you wouldn't be able to complain about it." You just shrug, the closest thing to any sort of emotion he has seen since you entered.

"If you wanted to you could have done already. I know who you are, so I know a little bit about what you are capable of."

"You know who I am?"

"Of course I do. Seen you on the news, it's hard to hide such a pretty face." Jerome would think you were mocking him if it wasn't for the almost deadpan look you gave him and those mostly lifeless eyes.

"And you're not scared?" Jerome seems put out by this.

"Dude, you're a couple of decades to late to scare me. I'm not a kid, I grew up here, nothing surprises me anymore." You decide to drop the conversation in favor of fixing yourself some substance. You decide on cereal, you can't be bothered to do anything more complicated or time-consuming at the moment.

Your back is to Jerome, he is quiet while you get your cereal. When you turn around, he is standing very close, very much into your personal space. You take spoonful of your cereal and just watch him watching you while chewing away at your cereal.

"Huh, I guess you are a bit dead inside aren't you?" He pokes your forehead hard with one finger, hard enough to push your head back. You put your spoon down in the bowl, and rub at the spot. Jerome is still staying close, watching. You stare back, neither of you saying anything. Then Jerome laughs, backing off. His laughter is so easily recognizeable, you are almost worried for a split second that the neighbours would hear, but then you remember you don't care and neither do they.

Jerome waltzes over to your liquor collection, eyeing it for a second before picking out your best dark rum. He pours himself a glass, sighing with content, grinning.

"Hurts a bit with the, you know," he gestures to his face, "But damn it feels good." He laughs again, yet no discernable reaction from you. Nothing at all. How frustrating.

"Where do you get this shit from anyway?" He eyes the many bottles filling up a large part of your kitchen counter. Another shrug from you.

"Comes with the territory I guess. I'm a bartender." 

"That where you came from now?" Jerome doesn't know why he asks, he finds himself curious despite himself.

"Yeah." The dog has finished eating it seems, as it jumps up on the couch and makes it self comfortable. At least it's not growling at him anymore.

"And the dog?"

"Goes with me. She has her own spot behind the bar." Jerome laughs.

"Doesn't that go against a lot of health policies?" You snort, and oh, _hello_, new reaction.

"Like Gotham cares about that. Don't you get bored with asking me all these questions?"

"If I ever get to bored here, I could always have some fun with the dog. He eyes the black pitbull where it lays on the couch. His head is yanked back then, a knife at his throat, and a solid body is pressing him against the kitchen counter.

"You touch that dog and I will skin you alive and hang you out to dry." Your voice is low and firm. Jerome laughs, his cackling seemingly waking up the dog, since it's now staring at him.

"Oh my, oh my, there's some fire." The knife presses slightly more into his throat. He feels a few drops of blood run down his neck and lets out another round of laughter.

"Okay, okay, I get it. No touching the dog." The knife and you is gone almost instantly. You turn on the sink, washing away his blood from the knife before returning it to the knife block where it belongs.

"There's extra blankets and pillows in the hallway closet. Goodnight." You whistle, and the dog jumps down from his spot on the couch, following you into the bedroom. Jerome watches you with a mad grin the whole time, and when the door closes behind you, he laughs again. He touches his throat, fingers coming back red. How interesting. 


	2. The daily routine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I've been thinking some people might think of Jeremiah when they read about the empty/dead eyes, so I just want to talk about it real quick. I feel like Jeremiah's eyes are more filled with distain and disinterest for the world, plus he does actually show emotions, even if a bit mockingly.
> 
> Your eyes are more like someone set you into neutral and you don't switch out of it unless really provoked/pushed. The lack of a reaction isn't necessarily a lack interest, but more a lack of ability/knowing that you should/could actually respond in any way.

Jerome had of course looked inside your bedroom the moment you left for work the next night, but there wasn't really anything in there. The bed was interestingly a king size instead of the single like had expected, but other than than that, it's just a bed with dark blue covers. Your closet doesn't give him anything interesting either. It's just clothes, all dark except from a couple of jeans and one light blue tie he finds in a bottom of a drawer.

There is nothing interesting in the room. No knives, no expensive clothes, no sex-toys, or any other naughty pleasure. How boring! If it wasn't for how you acted with him, he might have dubbed you one of the most boring people in Gotham.

Your lack of reaction to him and the deadness in your eyes, and then the complete switch to a blazing fire as soon as the mention of your dog getting hurt is so intriguing to him. There's something there could be fun to play with.

So he waits, trying to figure out how to get under your skin again. He doesn't try it with the dog again. He knows an empty threat when he hears one, and yours was the furthest thing from it.

After that first night the two of you settle into what can almost be called some sort of routine. You sleep until late afternoon, when you wake Jerome is never in the apartment, and he only comes back while you are at work. 

You don't know what he does in that time, but you don't really care. Every night he's back and awake. He always tries to get a rise out of you in some way. It begins with small things at first, like switching out your sugar with salt, and your milk with white paint, but it accelerates over time.

He starts invading your personal space, taking your things, hiding them, in general bothering you as much as you can. He rarely gets a rise out you, except the occasional annoyed sigh. He even invades you bathroom, or he tries, since after the first time you had started to lock the door.

But sometimes you forget to do so, which is how you find yourself shirtless with Jerome. You had been getting ready to shower and were glad you hadn't stripped off more when Jerome busts into the bathroom.

Jerome and you are about the same height, and also closely the same body build. Or so Jerome had thought, because he's looking at your shirtless torso right now, and _oh, hello_ hidden muscles. Jerome crosses his arms, grinning and leans on the wall. Your bathroom is tiny, just a sink, toilet and (surprisingly) a bathtub that takes up the width of the room, so Jerome is taking up a significant part of the space.

"Well would ya look at that, not too shabby. I must say that those clothes you wear are hiding way too much. It's almost a crime, and coming from me, that's serious." He uncrosses his arms and pats his own shoulders. You seem unimpressed as usual.

He pushes himself off the wall and takes the single step he needs to be in your personal space. He pushes at your chest with a finger, the flesh firm under his finger. You don't move or react at all, just watch him while he prods your upper torso with his hand.

"So what do you do? Run? Lift weights? Punch someone?" 

"I do nothing." Jerome laughs at that.

"Some people would kill for a body like yours, someone probably have, and here you are." He punctuates his words by jabbing a finger hard into your shoulder, making you grunt.

"Alright, enough of that."

"What, I'm having fun, you gonna stop me?" You push at Jerome, and he stumbles backwards, out of the bathroom.

"Yes." And then you slam the door in his face. He laughs loudly, having gotten a reaction out of you always makes him giddy.

\----------

It's been a couple of weeks since Jerome settled into your place, and now the routine changes slightly. Jerome is surprised one morning when you get up earlier than usual, it's not even noon when you shuffle out of your bedroom, bleary eyed and barely awake. Your dog follows closely behind, giving him a quick sniff before settling into her usual spot on the couch. At least she wasn't growling at him like she had spent the first week doing.

"Morning early bird, didn't expect to see you up so early." You grunt, not bothering to give more of a response. Jerome watches your back while you make coffee, realising he has actually never seen you when you have just woken up.

"What, not going to answer me? I'm hurt roomie." He fakes a pout, putting a hand over his heart when you turn around. You stretch, making his eyes go to the sliver of skin he can see when your pyjamas-shirt rides up. You clear you throat, trying to get it in speaking shape.

"Well, I'm going over to opening shift in three days so I'm going to need to turn my body clock around." You rub at your eyes, yawing loudly.

"And it doesn't help that I'm not really a morning person to begin with." The coffee machine beeps then to signal being done, so you pour yourself one and one for Jerome.

"How do you take it Jerome?"

"Well, oh my, I never would have seen you so forward." He giggles and you give him a deadpan look.

"The coffee Jerome."

"Three sugars and a splash of milk."

"If the milk is paint again you are getting it like that." You make the coffee for him, and then walk over to where he is situated at the dining room table. You set down the cup between the mess of wires, cogs and heavens know what else. 

"What are you making?"

"A bomb." Jerome takes the cup, taking a sip of his coffee. Most people would freak out if someone was making a bomb in their apartment, but not you. You simply hum, looking over it all before patting his shoulder. 

"If it blows up in your face, I'm not cleaning up after you." Jerome fakes a dramatic gasp.

"Wow, do you have no fate in me?"

"No." Jerome looks at your stoic face, and then there's a light movement at the edge of your mouth. After trying to get you to react for weeks, he knows he can read you pretty well. You are fucking making a joke. He laughs when he realises this.

"Oh, you are trying to make a joke! I am so proud of you!" He grabs you face with one hand and shakes your head, like an old aunt would do while commenting on how big you had gotten. You smack his hand away.

"Yeah, but if the bomb goes off in here I'm calling the bomb squad." His laughter rings behind you as you go to the bathroom.

\--------

At one point Jerome decides that he needs to amp up his game to get a reaction out of you. By now you have gotten so used to him messing with you that he never get a reaction anymore. So he need to go further to annoy you.

Which is how you find him sleeping on top of you on morning. You don't know why the fuck he is there and you don't really care, but you really need to pee, and to do that he needs to move. You shift so you can start to shove him off, but the movement wakes him up, and then he's clinging to you like he's an fucking octopus. You grunt.

"Jerome, get off."

"Morning to you too sunshine, an no." You sigh, you are really in no mood for his antics this early. You try to pry him off, but he has a surprisingly good grip on you. If it was another time and person you wouldn't have minded the weight on you too much, but it's Jerome, so you know he's only doing it to get a rise out of you. You don't really know why he's hanging around, and you don't know why ha had choose to go down this route, so you try to focus on just getting him to let go off you instead so you can go pee. 

Finally you get one of his arms to let go, and soon the rest of his limbs follows. You throw him to the other side of the bed. You throw him so hard that he actually bounces on the mattress and falls off the bed and onto the floor.

"Ooff, how cruel!" You hear Jerome laugh while you stagger to the bathroom, relived to have him off you so you can go pee. You swear under your breath, he can barely hear it, but it sends Jerome into another laughing fit.

\------

Over the next few days he does this routine every morning. You go to sleep alone, and when you wake, you find him sleeping on top of you. You get him off your body, and then go to the bathroom. As the days go by however, your irritation wears off, and it just becomes another part of your daily routine.

Jerome is annoyed that he doesn't get a reaction anymore. Some mornings he even finds that the two of you have changed during the night, so you are the one sleeping on top of him instead. 

The difference between the two situations is that you are heavier than him as well as a heavy sleeper, so it actually takes some effort for Jerome to get you off him, wake you up, or a mix of the two. You had woken up the floor a couple of times when Jerome had been a little bit too successful in getting you off him. You don't really react to this either, you just get up and leave for the bathroom.

The third time it happens he realises he must change his approach again.


	3. Drastic measures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jerome is a little shit and sometimes that has consequences

It takes another few days before Jerome figures how to try to get a reaction out of you this time around. This time it is also with no warning.

You just wake up one morning, finding him in your bed yet again. This time however he's not on you or sleeping, but he's instead laying next to you, lazily stroking his cock with a grin plastered on.

"Morning."

"Jerome, what the fuck." Your reaction is not loud or anything, but hey, it's certainly a new one (that you have voiced at loud). 

"Oh you know, just the usual." You give him a look, and sigh heavily. Getting up and out of bed you choose to ignore him, tuning him out as he yells after you.

"What, not going to offer to help roomie?" All he gets in response is the slam of the bathroom door. He huffs then smiles. That had certainly gotten a reaction, even if short. He has a plan now.

Jerome continues like this for the next week, although not every day, choosing to masturbate on seemingly random days. Which is probably why you kind of just put up with it. You just ignore him and get ready for work, and he's usually finished, or at least gone, by the time you are done in the bathroom, so you deal with it. Sort of.

Until one of your days off from work happens. You had planned to sleep in, never much of a morning person if you could help it. You awake to a weight on your stomach and chest, eyes popping open to meet Jerome's. He's grinning, and he is in one of his stupid suits, tie and all, with one of his hands down his pants. 

"I must say, you are quite the heavy sleeper." You groan, reaching for one of Jerome's legs, trying to push him off.

"Jerome, get off." Your voice is rough, barely awake as you are. Jerome chuckles.

"Oh believe me, I'm on good way there."

"That was not what I meant and you know it. So move."

"Look at you, I think that's the most I've heard you speak all week!" You huff, still trying to tip him to the side so you can get out of bed.

"And no." You still then, letting out another huff. Jerome feels your hand on his leg tighten, he can feel it start to tingle a bit with how you are cutting off his blood flow. He doesn't mind it at all, almost excited to see how you will react next.

Something inside you snaps. 

You sit up quickly, making Jerome fall into your lap with a yelp. He nearly overbalances and fall off the end of the bed, but you grab a hold of his tie and real him in. Next thing he knows, you have flipped the two of you down on the bed. He's on his back with you hovering over him. You hand is still on his tie, so you tug it off with a few quick jerks. 

"You are infuriating." It's a statement, which is punctuated with you ripping open his vest and shirt since you can't be bothered with the buttons. Jerome hears a few of them hit the wall and window, and laughs. You pull out his hand that is somehow is still in his pants, and deal with them the same way you dealt with his other clothes. It's all still on, but it's open from his neck to his crotch.

And then your hand is on his dick and your mouth is on his neck. You bite and suck his neck while you jerk him off, hard and quick. Jerome can't help but laugh. This wasn't the reaction he had expected, but fuck, if it wasn't unwelcome.

You grunt into his neck at his laughter. You start moving downwards, sucking and biting as you go. Soon your mouth replaces your hand on his dick, and he tries to fuck up into it, but you're not having any of it. You pin him down with an arm over his waist and a hand of his hips.

Jerome laughs and his own hands finds their way into you hair. He tugs, hard, which makes you groan and you teeth scrape the underside of his cock. Jerome moans and tugs at your hair once more, this time you're more prepared, but you still let your teeth get into it.

You add your hand and look up at him. Jerome looks at you. You look tousled and tired, and at the same time, there is a fire in your eyes he recognises. He is certain that you head that same look in your eyes when you held a knife to his throat the day you met, even tough he couldn't see it. It's almost manic, and he fucking revels in it.

The feeling of whatever it is, is what pushes him over the edge, with almost no warning. You pull off him, his cum hitting the chest of your sleep shirt instead of your mouth. Jerome would lament that fact if he wasn't busy coming the hardest he has in a good while.

When he comes back to his senses a bit more, your head is on his stomach, and you're breathing heavily. His hands fell out of your hair at one point, so when you move, he doesn't try to stop you. He does however notice the way you move and grin.

"Did you come just from that?" You give him a look that is the closest thing he has seen to dirty on your face. He laughs again.

"What? You can't blamed, I am amazing after all."

"Fuck off Jerome."

"Don't think you want me to, not if this buddy of yours have anything to do with it." He lifts his leg up a bit so his shin is stroking your dick from where you are half crouched over him. He doesn't say much after that, since you tackle him for round two with the same look in your eyes that made him cum.

**Author's Note:**

> This, uh, is not going to be a healthy relationship to put it that way


End file.
